Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Lost and Forgotten
by KnightwithaPassion
Summary: Good Morning everyone! Just a rough WIP that Im working through very slowly More than anything, putting ideas on the page, but if I get enough interest, ill definitely develop these characters faster than some of my other stories, who knows! So, if you like Demigods, Gods, Monsters, and no small amount of heroics, youve come to the right place! For context, look up Rick Riordan!


Good Morning Beekeepers! Or, should I say, Demigods! Just uploading a very rough WIP for an idea im working on. Hope you all enjoy ^_^ Interesting challenge for you all - try to figure out who this mysterious hero's parent is, I dare you ;)  
Excited to hear from you :D Have a great day!

* * *

Fitz quickly ran through the murky forest of Washington and Jefferson National Park, the underbrush illuminated by the dull silvery light of the moon, and the dull coppery glow of the boy's weapon: a bronze blade of about a meter in length with a tip broadening into a leaf shape.

His steps were light and swift, each landing perfectly on a sturdy root or a patch of solid earth. The night was silent except for the short, quick breaths from the lone boy and the faint rustle of leaves from the wind. A low howl sounded off in the distance, much like that of a wolf, but much deeper. It sent chills down Fitz's spine, the grip tightening around his blade in response.

He sighed and suddenly paused in a clearing, his stance steady as his sword arm sat across his torso, the blade beside his left ear ready to strike. On his other hand hung a beaded bracelet, its leather chord wrapped thrice around his wrist as it held two ceramic beads: one adorned with strawberry vines, the other a flock of doves eternally flying around the ceramic ring.

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the ground beneath him. He could sense tunnels below him, several converging at a point several hundred meters in front of him. Fitz smiled and called out to the eyes peering at him from the darkness, red menacing eyes that glowed evilly in the gloom. "If you want to eat me, you'll have to catch me first!" He called and began to run towards the convergence.

He heard several deep growls accept his challenge as he left the clearing at a sprint, his blade arm down to keep the blade steady against his gait. He could faintly sense four presences surrounding him, each of them full of hunger and malice. Fitz ran into a large, rocky clearing; a large stone outcrop sat near the centre of the clearing like a huge spike through the earth. His heart sank as he saw a large figure perched on top of the outcropping, a jet black mastiff the size of a large rhinoceros, its eyes replaced with two points of glowing crimson light in the dull moonlight.

"So, you're the alpha huh?" He called to the hellhound, "You're the one who I have to blame for these mutts for the past, two weeks?!" Fitz put emphasis on the last two words, his anger and annoyance evident as he grit his teeth. The hellhound merely growled in response, its growl a deep, rumbling sound that shook the very earth.

"No? Come at me then, mutt!" He challenged, sword raised and aimed at the hellhound a mere 100 feet away. The hellhound howled and leapt towards the fighter, each bound covering at least 10 feet. Fitz ran at full speed for the hellhound, and met the beast in the nearly halfway between the edge of the clearing and the outcropping.

Fitz dove under the hellhound and slashed up at its exposed stomach before he emerged from between its back legs, sliding on his black along the underbrush. He jumped to his feet immediately and faced the alpha. The hellhound whimpered for a moment before it roared in rage and turned back to Fitz. It pounced and Fitz dodged to the side, his roll bringing him to a crouch. Fitz placed his hand on the ground and concentrated hard on the area that the hellhound and the alpha cried out in surprise. Fitz rose to his feet and saw that the ground around the alpha had become unstable, the soil eroding around its feet as the earth pulled its front paws into its embrace.

Fitz took the opportunity and charged at the alpha, his blade meeting the muscular flesh of its neck before the hellhound turned to dust. Three more shapes emerged from the shadows surrounding the clearing, jet black mastiffs that were smaller than the alpha, but not by much.

"Sorry guys, but I gotta bail." Fitz smiled before he ran at full speed for the outcropping, with the hellhounds close behind. He dodged to the left to avoid the first hellhound a few meters from the outcropping, then jumped over the second as he pounced on him just before the outcropping. The second hellhound hit the giant stone formation with enough force to send a large fracture through the outer stones. Fitz landed on the dazed hellhounds back and used it as a platform to jump to the highest point of the outcropping to where he could see his target, a near black pool of water surrounded by rocky walls. Fitz took in a deep breath and jumped into the pool. He sunk about a meter and a half before the current took him, down one of the many tunnels that converged from the outcropping.

The tunnel went on for about a minute, before it launched Fitz into a large underground cavern. He rose to the surface and gasped for air as his lungs burned. The cavern was dark except for a single light source, a small island in the centre of the cavern with a small tent and a fireplace. Fitz smiled and swam for the island, his muscles aching as he pushed himself home.

Fitz pulled himself onto the beach and lay on his back for a few minutes as his heartbeat slowed, his ears filled with the quiet sounds of water against stone. He brought his left hand up to his view and stared at his bracelet, the doves glowing faintly and the strawberries just visible against the firelight. He sighed and closed his eyes, muttering "I'm sorry, Sarah." Under his breath before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

If there was one thing that Fitz couldn't handle, it was the nightmares. He could stab hellhounds, dodge centaurs, and defeat people, but you can't stab a dream.

Fitz saw himself in the same place he saw himself every night. The Bolar Mountain camp ground, the same place he went as a kid, and where he lost her.

A young girl with strawberry blonde hair tied up in a braid, her warm and comforting with her orange camp shirt painting a single picture about her character: warm, happy, and loving.

Fitz tried to reach for her before the scene changed, then a large hand swatted her away. Her body hit a tree with a foreboding crack, her strawberry blonde hair slowly darkening to a deeper shade of crimson.

He wanted to call out her name, but he knew that he couldn't. Whatever god plagued him with these dreams, they wouldn't even give him that luxury. Suddenly, the scene flickered and changed again: the camp grounds around him burned, several figures in bronze armour accompanied a lone cyclops, and the broken figure changed entirely, her braided strawberry blonde hair now a short, brown cut, and her face covered in blood. Above her stood a boy holding a blade towards the armoured figures, his orange camp shirt torn and tattered.

Fitz awoke with a cold sweat across his brow, his breathing heavy, and a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"What the hell was that?" He muttered as he wiped the tear and sweat off his face. He slowly rose to his feet and stretched his muscles.

"More dreams?" A voice called from the water, a young maiden in a light blue dress adorned with a bronze belt around her waist, her blonde shoulder length hair curled as it hung from her head, and her bronze circlet framing her attractive face. "Every night." He muttered, his fingers running through his short brown hair. "You know better than most, Cass."

The girl laughed as she stood on the surface of the water a few meters from the boy. "You know that I prefer to be called Cassandra, Fitzen." She teased, her arms tightening around her waist as she blushed lightly. Fitz couldn't see her blush in the dim light, but he knew she would be.

"And yet, here we are." He said before he turned to his camp site. A small, one man tent with a sleeping bag inside, a small campfire just outside the tent, and a bronze spear leaning against the front of the tent. "I'm going to make a camp ground run, want anything?"

"Just come back alive." She said quietly as he retrieved his spear and sword, sheathing the sword in a scabbard on his hip and holding the spear in his right hand.

"Don't I always?" He comforted as he slowly walked into the water. As he walked into the pool surrounding his small island, his body remained dry as he got deeper and deeper until he was wading just in front of one of the many tunnels that converged on the cavern.

"Can I have a lift?" He called before taking a deep breath and diving to the tunnel below him.

"Oh course." Cassandra whispered as her body glided through the water and sat just beside him. She smiled before the water current pushed Fitz through the tunnel and towards the camp site, leaving her alone as her smile faded.

Fitz held his breath as he was launched at high speed through the tunnel, his spear held tight against his body as to not have it caught on the tunnel walls. His lungs began to rebel against him once more as he was shot out of the tunnel and into a large cavern, leaving him gasping for air as he surfaced.

"No matter how many times I do that, it never ends well." He muttered to himself before he swam for the rock face and pulled himself out of the water.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before he headed towards the campgrounds, the tunnel he emerged from coming barely a hundred meters from the outskirts of the camp.

Fitz noted that the campgrounds were nearly pitch black for this time of morning, the edge of dawn beginning to break over the horizon.

Around the camp grounds there were several tents and caravans, most of them regulars that Fitz had seen days ago, but there was a few new tents, with one of them still boasting a smouldering campfire. Fitz approached the fire to see a lone boy sitting on a wooden log, absentmindedly poking the coals, his sandy blond hair short and messy.

Fitz swore he recognized the boy, his bright orange shirt triggering a memory that he couldn't place. As he got closer, Fitz could hear a gentle tune on the air, someone was humming. A sweet serenade, closely resembling that of Mozart, but carrying a distinctly Greek undertone.

The humming stopped when Fitz approached the boy, his hears perking up as a reluctant smile broke over his face. "Good morning, stranger. Anything I can do for you?" He asked politely. Fitz could see and hear the strain of exhaustion that plagued the boy. He couldn't be much older than Fitz was, maybe 13 or 14 years old.

"Just wandering through, grabbing some supplies." Fitz answered hesitantly, something about this boy put him on edge, namely the bronze glow of the bow that was lazily hidden by the campfire, but still easily within reach. He clenched his spear tighter, the sudden jerk causing the bronze spearhead to flash in the firelight.

"Michaela, you might want to come out here." The boy said uneasily, the smile fading from his face as the glint of bronze catches his eye.

"I swear to the gods, Oscar. If it's another spider, you're taking guard duty again for another week." A feminine voice grumbled from inside the tent. When she appeared two seconds later Fitz took a deep breath, a chill running down his spine as he gazed upon her face. Young like himself and Oscar, with gentle green eyes, like lush grass. Her dark brown hair cut short so that it couldn't get in the way of anything, and her orange shirt mirroring that of her companion. The same young woman in Fitz's nightmare.


End file.
